UNIVERZITA KARLOVA V PRAZE
FILOZOFICKÁ FAKULTA
ÚSTAV ANGLOFONNÍCH LITERATUR A KULTUR
The Motives of Separation and Solitude
in Old English Lyrical Poetry
BAKALÁŘSKÁ PRÁCE
Vedoucí bakalářské práce (Supervisor):
Zpracovala (Author):
Mgr. Helena Znojemská, Ph.D.
Lenka Klasnová
Studijní obor (Subject):
Praha, květen 2012
Anglistika - amerikanistika
Prohlašuji, že jsem tuto bakalářskou práci vypracovala samostatně, že jsem řádně citovala
všechny použité prameny a literaturu a že práce nebyla využita v rámci jiného
vysokoškolského studia či k získání jiného či stejného titulu.
V Praze dne 25. května 2012
I declare that the following BA thesis is my own work for which I used only the sources and
literature mentioned, and that this thesis has not been used in the course of other university
studies or in order to acquire the same or another type of diploma.
Prague, date 25 May 2012
Ráda bych tímto poděkovala vedoucí své práce doktorce Heleně Znojemské za neocenitelnou
pomoc a rady při zpracování tématu. Dále bych chtěla poděkovat docentu Janu Čermákovi za
prvotní inspiraci a důvěru.
I would like to thank my supervisor Helena Znojemská for her invaluable assistance and
advice during the course of processing the theme. I would also like to thank Jan Čermák for
his confidence and inspiration.
Souhlasím se zapůjčením bakalářské práce ke studijním účelům.
I have no objections to the BA thesis being borrowed and used for study purposes.
Abstract
This thesis is concerned with four Old English lyrical poems of the so-called elegiac
group, i.e. The Wife’s Lament, Wulf and Eadwacer, The Wanderer and The Seafarer and their
shared themes of separation and solitude. After a brief account of the few facts known about
the poems, the appropriateness of the elegiac genre imposed upon them by scholarly tradition
is addressed in the introduction.
The first chapter gives a brief overview of the history of critical opinion on each of the
poems. Since their simple unambiguous translation is impossible, given the cryptic nature of
the narratives and numerous grammatically, syntactically, semantically or otherwise
problematic points, the chapter also attempts the notoriously difficult task of their
interpretation. While some solutions to the problematic aspects may be preferred in the course
of the interpretation, a variety of potential possibilities is discussed in most cases. The
resulting interpretations strive to present each poem as a unified and logical narrative.
The second chapter addresses the themes of loneliness, alienation, isolation and
separation in each of the four poems, their given reasons, manifestations, progress and the
common elegiac imagery used to express them. The mood evoked by specific word meanings
and employed rhetorical devices is also commented upon as is the conveyed psychological
state of the speaker.
The final chapter compares the themes discussed in the previous chapter, especially
with regard to the differences between the poems with male and presumed female speakers in
terms of the status of the speakers, their psychological progress, the nature of the objects of
their desire or the emphasis on the public or private spheres of existence; generally
accentuating the contrasts of the male and female experience of separation while
acknowledging their similarities. The texts of the elegies in Old English are provided in the
appendix.
Abstrakt
Tato práce se zabývá čtyřmi staroanglickými lyrickými básněmi z takzvané elegické
skupiny, tj. Ženin nářek, Wulf a Eadwacer, Poutník a Námořník, a motivy odloučení a
samoty, které sdílejí. Po stručném výčtu několika málo faktů známých o těchto básních v
úvodu následuje diskuze o vhodnosti elegického žánru, který jim byl přisouzen odbornou
tradicí.
První kapitola podává stručný přehled historie kritických názorů na každou
z uvedených básní. Vzhledem k tomu, že jednoznačný překlad je nemožný, což je dáno
nejasnou povahou vyprávěných příběhů a mnohými gramaticky, syntakticky, sémanticky či
jinak problematickými místy, tato kapitola se pokouší o interpretaci jednotlivých básní,
jakkoli je to složitý úkol. Zatímco některým řešením sporných míst může být dána v průběhu
této interpretace přednost, ve většině případů je prodiskutována řada potencionálních
možností. Výsledné interpretace usilují o vylíčení jednotného a logického příběhu v každé
básni.
Druhá kapitola se zaměřuje na motivy osamělosti, odcizení, izolace a odloučení
v každé ze čtyř jmenovaných básní a jejich důvody, projevy, vývojem a obrazy použitými
k jejich vyjádření. Propojení mezi použitými rétorickými postupy, popř. významy slov a
náladou, kterou vyvolávají, je taktéž věnována pozornost, stejně jako psychickým stavům
mluvčího.
Závěrečná kapitola porovnává motivy popsané v předchozí kapitole, a to zejména
s ohledem na rozdíly mezi básněmi s mužskými a předpokládanými ženskými mluvčími
vzhledem k statutu mluvčích, vývoji jejich psychického stavu, povahy předmětu jejich touhy
nebo důrazu na veřejné či soukromé oblasti života. Obecně se zdůrazňují kontrasty mužské a
ženské zkušenosti osamocení, aniž by se zavrhly jejich podobnosti. Texty jednotlivých elegií
ve staré angličtině jsou k dispozici v příloze.
Table of contents
Introduction ............................................................................................................................... 8
1. Interpretations .................................................................................................................. 11
1.1 The Wife’s Lament .................................................................................................. 11
1.2 Wulf and Eadwacer ................................................................................................. 14
1.3 The Wanderer .......................................................................................................... 18
1.4 The Seafarer ............................................................................................................ 21
2. Analysis of the Themes of Separation and Solitude....................................................... 25
2.1 The Wife’s Lament .................................................................................................. 25
2.2 Wulf and Eadwacer ................................................................................................. 27
2.3 The Wanderer .......................................................................................................... 29
2.4 The Seafarer ............................................................................................................ 31
3. Comparison of Themes .................................................................................................... 34
Conclusion ............................................................................................................................... 39
Bibliography ............................................................................................................................ 40
Appendix .................................................................................................................................. 43
Introduction
The Old English lyrical poems The Wanderer, The Seafarer, The Riming Poem, Deor,
Wulf and Eadwacer, The Wife's Lament, Resignation, The Husband's Message and The Ruin1
have been, ever since they became the focus of criticism and scholarship in the 19th century,
grouped together under the title of the Old English elegies. There is precious little that can be
considered fact about these poems. They are all found in a single manuscript, the Exeter
Book, which was written sometime between 970 and 980 in west Wessex and given by
Leofric, the Bishop of Exeter, to the cathedral library before 1072.2 All else is prone to
speculation and assumption. The date and location of the composition of individual poems is
unknown as is their authorship. While analogues in other Germanic languages and in Latin
literature have been pointed out,3 their precise relationship to either branch of literary tradition
is a matter of conjecture. Though traditionally called ―elegies,‖ this description has not been
immediately or unequivocally accepted4 and is still disputed. The term ―elegy‖ itself as a song
of lamentation was first recorded in the English language in the 16th century5 and its use to
classify the above-mentioned group of poems is to some extent arbitrary, since the Old
English elegies differ from both the classical elegies, i.e. poetry written in the elegiac couplets
on a number of subjects, and the English pastoral elegies.6 Scholars and critics have
frequently attempted to characterize this genre; however, the variation in tone and themes
among the individual poems has made this a difficult task. Further, the inclusion of some of
the poems to the elegiac genre can be suspect, for example The Husband's Message due to its
cheerful tone or The Ruin with its lack of first person speaker. The encompassing definition
then necessary needs to be a broad one in order to avoid the problem of variation. A definition
that satisfies this requirement is that of Stanley B. Greenfield, who describes the Old English
elegy as ―a relatively short reflective or dramatic poem embodying a contrasting pattern of
loss and consolation, ostensibly based upon a specific personal experience or observation, and
1
Since the poems have no titles in the manuscript, the titles used are those of modern editors: George P. Krapp,
and Elliott V. K. Dobbie, The Anglo-Saxon Poetic Records: A Collective Edition (New York: Columbia
University Press, 1931).
2
Stanley B. Greenfield, ―The Old English Elegies,‖ Hero and Exile: The Art of Old English Poetry (London:
The Hambledon Press, 1989) 93. Other scholars have proposed slightly different dates, all within the second half
of the 10th century.
3
For some of these analogues see Anne L. Klinck, Old English Elegies: A Critical Edition and Genre Study
(Montreal: McGill-Queen's University Press , 1992) 253; henceforth abbreviated as Klinck.
4
For a summary of the development of critical approaches to the elegies see Martin Green, Introduction, The
Old English Elegies: New Essays in Criticism and Research, ed. Green (Rutherford: Fairleigh Dickinson
University Press, 1983) 11-30.
5
"elegy, n." Def. OED Online. December 2011. Oxford University Press. 17 January 2012.
<http://www.oed.com.ezproxy.is.cuni.cz/view/Entry/60350?redirectedFrom=elegy>.
6
Green, Introduction 14.
8
expressing an attitude towards that experience.‖7 Though widely accepted, the problem with
this and any other attempt at defining the genre is that they ultimately amount to ―a
retrospective classification which relates them to a universal literary mode,‖8 even if this is,
due to the lack of any contemporaneous literary genre guides, inevitable. The poems are also
far from a homogenous group and have been sorted to various subcategories, e.g. love lyrics,
scop poems, penitential prayers and even a riddle.9 With so much speaking against the term
―elegy‖, it seems the continuing usage of it as a genre classification is retained mostly due to
scholarly tradition and convenience.
Despite numerous objections against a single definition, the concept of the elegy is not
completely unfounded and the poems combine certain elements: a first person speaker (with
the exception of The Ruin) and his/her reflections on the contrast between a happier past and a
desolate present, usually in monologue; the typical scenery of ruins, stormy seas, caves, dark
forests, frost and hail, generally a hostile environment, presented especially in contrast with
the scene of a warm and welcoming mead-hall; a concluding gnomic, homiletic or didactic
passage; themes of exile, transience of earthly comforts, mortality and loss; last but not least,
as Klinck points out, ―the essential element of elegy as it is found in these Exeter Book poems
is the sense of separation.‖10 It is precisely this theme of separation and subsequent solitude as
it is presented in four poems, The Wanderer, The Seafarer, The Wife's Lament and Wulf and
Eadwacer that will be the focus of this thesis. The first three of these poems form the core of
the elegiac group and with the inclusion of Wulf and Eadwacer they offer an interesting
opportunity for comparison as examples of a ―male‖ versus ―female‖ view11 in terms of the
themes of separation and solitude. Apart from a greater subjective appeal of the four selected
poems, there are other reasons as to why the other elegies will not be included in the
following discussion. The Ruin is impersonal in its narrative and lacks a speaking voice; it is
also fragmentary, affected by burn damage of the manuscript, just as The Husband's Message
is. Deor is for a large part a catalogue of figures from Germanic mythology. The Riming
Poem and Resignation have been considered ―qualitatively inferior poems‖12 by some critics.
The Riming Poem, with its confusing vocabulary arising from the use of both alliteration and
rhyme, seems to defy interpretation altogether and its obscurity, unlike that of Wulf and
7
Greenfield, Elegies 94.
Klinck 223.
9
For further examples of possible subcategories see Klinck 12.
10
Klinck 225.
11
Provided that the speakers of The Wife's Lament and Wulf and Eadwacer are accepted as women, however,
this is not a universally acknowledged view; see esp. notes 14 and 19.
12
Greenfield, Elegies 94.
8
9
Eadwacer, does not seem to be functional. The problems of integrity of Resignation are
greater than The Seafarer‘s and these two poems also share the homiletic character, making
the inclusion of both superfluous.
Before a discussion of the specific themes in the poems, an interpretation of each of
the selected elegies will be attempted. Even though this is a notoriously difficult task with no
definitive answers available because of the rather cryptic nature of the narratives, an attempt
at an interpretation should result in a better understanding of the poems and for that reason
especially the problematic and disputed parts of the poems will be addressed. The
interpretations will be considered particularly with respect to the subject matter, which should
provide a basis for the next part of the thesis, i.e. an examination of the themes of separation
and solitude and the expressions used to convey them in each of the poems. A comparison of
the male and female perspective will follow, since each of the speakers is somehow isolated
from the rest of the society, but the woman‘s voice is clearly contrasted to that of the men, as
it is ―elevating the private over the public, the individual over the group, personal ties over
social responsibilities.‖
13
In the lyrical world of the elegies a woman‘s and a man‘s solitude
is a dissimilar experience.
13
Anne Klinck, Anthology of Ancient and Medieval Woman's Song (Gordonsville: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004)
18.
10
Interpretations
The Wife’s Lament
The Wife’s Lament is the only example in the Old English corpus of a detailed
exploration of the psychology of a suffering woman. In form a dramatic monologue, the poem
relates the story of a woman‘s estrangement from a man and her solitude and longing in a
desolate location. In terms of interpretation the poem has, along with Wulf and Eadwacer,
provoked more discussion and puzzlement than any other piece of Old English poetry, though
without reaching any kind of critical consensus. This is due to the questionable nature of basic
information, such as the number, identity and relationship of the characters, the chronology of
events and the settings; even the gender of the speaker, an apparent fact clear from a basic
analysis of the grammatical endings, has been challenged. 14 Not even the editorial input can
be agreed on, as little alterations in punctuation can change meaning significantly. With the
texts of The Wife’s Lament and Wulf and Eadwacer being in themselves virtually impossible
to interpret unquestionably, most would agree with Greenfield that the poems ―seem to be
based on stories and situations probably familiar to the Anglo-Saxon audience but
unfortunately lost to us in the mists of antiquity.‖15 Many possible sources and analogues
were proposed as a background to The Wife’s Lament, though none of them has been
universally agreed on.16 While commentators do not necessarily concern themselves with a
background or source, most attempt to interpret the poem in one way or another. Alain Renoir
summarizes the many views on the speaker, who was seen as ―a dead woman, a live man, a
sorceress-elect, a mistreated wife, a minor pagan deity and a voice yearning for the union of
Christ and the Church.‖17 While each of the multitudes of analyses presents valid points, some
will necessarily need to be discarded in the following process of interpreting in order to come
to a logical conclusion.
14
The main argument for seeing the speaker as a man is the rather formal way of addressing the lord and words
such as folgað or fæhðu, technical terms used within the context of comitatus, or the relationship between a lord
and his retinue. However, R. F. Leslie points out that ―in the Anglo-Saxon laws, the status of a wife is similar to
that of a retainer‖ in Roy F. Leslie, Three Old English Elegies (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1966)
5; henceforth abbreviated as Leslie.
15
Greenfield, Elegies 114.
16
These include the Crescentia tale of an exiled queen, the Constance tale from the Offa saga, the story of
Genoveva, Old Irish Liadain and Curithir, or the Odoaker saga, which is supposed to include other elegies as
well. For particulars and rebuttals see Leslie 9-10 or Klinck 53.
17
Alain Renoir, "A Reading Context for The Wife's Lament," Anglo-Saxon Poetry: Essays In Appreciation for
John C. McGalliard, eds. D. W. Frese and L.E. Nicholson (London: University of Notre Dame Press, 1975)
236. See note 30 on the same page for sources of these interpretations.
11
The poem begins with ―a conventional opening of the ‗elegiac‘ type (lines 1-5),‖18
where the speaker states her intention of telling the tale of her many hardships. The feminine
endings of geomorre and minre sylfre in lines 1 and 2 unambiguously introduce the speaker as
a woman.19 In the following lines (6-17) she relates the reasons for her present torments.
Problems in this part of the poem are manifold. The first is the term folgað, meaning ―service‖
or ―retinue;‖20 its legal nature leading to various interpretations. Whether the term means the
speaker searching for her departed lord,21 the service of a new lord,22 or less specifically
―protection‖ or ―security,‖23 these all amount to improving her position of a friendless outcast
in woeful need (10) in which she must have failed, considering the further progression of the
narrative. The otherwise unattested word herheard (15b) constitutes one of the most disputed
difficulties of the poem.24 Since splitting the expression into two words brings metrical
problems, producing either inappropriate alliteration (her eard) or unnatural syntax (her
heard) it seems best to retain it as a compound denoting a dwelling with very possible heathen
associations.25 Another problem in this part of the poem is the timeline. The series of preterite
verbs display the action in a chronological order, though Green notices that ―the sequence is
not altogether logical‖26 and as it is gives no apparent reason for the lord‘s departure and the
kinsmen‘s plotting. A chronological sequence also leaves the lord‘s order to be given either
from abroad, after his return (of which there is, however, no mention) or given by a different
lord.27 Possibly the best solution to the difficult chronology is to regard the verb ongunnon
18
Klinck 50.
While emendations to the feminine endings in favor of introducing a male speaker on a philological rather
than semantic basis has been suggested by some critics, these are sometimes followed by vigorous refusals, e.g.
Bruce Mitchell, "The Narrator of The Wife's Lament," Neuphilologische Mitteilungen 73 (1972): 222-234 in
reaction to a male speaker-centered Martin Stevens, "The Narrator of The Wife's Lament," Neuphilologische
Mitteilungen 69 (1968): 72-90.
20
―Folgaþ‖ Def. Joseph Bosworth, "An Anglo-Saxon Dictionary Online. Ed. Thomas Northcote Toller and
Others. Comp. Sean Christ and Ondřej Tichý. Faculty of Arts, Charles University in Prague, 21 Mar. 2010. Web.
17 Jan. 2012. <http://www.bosworthtoller.com/011149>, henceforth abbreviated Bosworth-Toller.
21
Proposed by Leslie 53.
22
Considered by Kemp Malone, ―Two English Frauenlieder,‖ Comparative Literature 14.1 (1962): 114.
23
Karl P. Wentersdorf, ―The Situation of the Narrator in the Old English Wife's Lament,‖ Speculum 56.3 (1981):
497.
24
Suggested readings include herh-eard, ―grove dwelling,‖ (Malone 114) or as a variant of hearg-eard, ―a
heathen shrine, sanctuary‖(Wentersdorf 508, Greenfield, Elegies 117), her eard niman, ―to take up abode
here,‖(Greenfield, Elegies 117, Leslie 53), her heard niman suggesting a cruel lord (Klinck 118).
25
This view is somewhat supported by a repeated reference (lines 28 and 36) to an oak tree, which was sacred to
the pagan god Thunor as Wentersdorf observes (504).
26
Martin Green, ―Time, Memory, and Elegy in The Wife‘s Lament,‖ The Old English Elegies: New Essays in
Criticism and Research, ed. Green (Rutherford: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 1983) 127.
27
The idea of introducing more characters into the story, triggered usually by a not entirely logical timeline, the
formal expressions used to address the lord (husband) contrasting with more personal words (meaning the lover)
or by the ambiguous reference to a young man in line 42 are refuted e.g. by Leslie 3-4 and Klinck 50. In
accordance with these commentators as well as for the sake of simplicity, no third character will further be
considered a part of the poem.
19
12
(11a) with a pluperfect sense, an explanation supported by Greenfield 28 and further elaborated
by Wentersdorf,29 who proposes that lines 1-10 constitute a preview or prologue to the
narrative, a summary of what is to follow.30
Thus, after a prologue summarizing the lord‘s departure, her anguish and journey, the
story would begin with the kinsmen secretly plotting to divide the couple and to make them
live in the misery of separation. The lord ordered her to take refuge, as she had few friends31
in the country. Her heart is therefore (for ðon)32 sad, since she found out33 that the man she
thought to be so well suited to her (despite or perhaps because he had a sadness in his heart)
was concealing his mind and contemplating a violent act behind a cheerful demeanor. 34 The
two often vowed that nothing but death alone would separate them35 but ―that is changed, now
it is as if our love never existed‖ (23b-25a)36 and the wife must endure her beloved‘s feud
(fæhðu).37
Lines 27-41 elaborate upon the dwelling place where the speaker was commanded 38 to
live and her state of mind after the separation. With heightening emotional intensity, she
speaks about the natural setting, her loneliness and sorrowing, but after such an emotional
climax the tone abruptly changes. The final part (lines 42-53) is undoubtedly the main crux of
the poem and has initiated numerous interpretations,39 since the reference to a young man
(42a) is ambiguous, the syntax dubious and what to make of the subjunctive scyle and syclauses remains a question. Some have preferred to interpret the subjunctive as optative and
28
Greenfield, Elegies 117.
Wentersdorf 494-495.
30
Such an introduction is not uncommon in the Old English corpus, for examples (The Wanderer, among others)
see Wentersdorf 495-496.
31
A typical example of an Anglo-Saxon understatement, meaning she had no friends at all or even many
enemies.
32
The clause for ðon is min hyge geomor can plausibly refer to the preceding as well as following and is thus
variously edited with a full stop after geomor or as a beginning of a new sentence.
33
Funde (18b) rather than ―find‖ has a more abstract meaning of ―find out‖ or ―realize‖ according to Klinck 181182.
34
The significance of this passage is disputable and can considerably change the appraisal of the husband. The
contemplated violence can be aimed at either the wife (i.e. her banishment) or the kinsmen (i.e. the reason for or
result of their plotting). Further, Greenfield believes that the epithets used for the husband reveal him as stiff and
rigid (117), while W.W. Lawrence considers the very same attributes to be virtues and the man suitable because
he too has known sorrow in ―The Banished Wife's Lament,‖ Modern Philology 5.3 (1908): 388-389. If
Wentersdorf‘s temporal division is adopted, it seems more likely for the act of violence to be aimed at the
kinsmen and concealed for the wife‘s safety, to avoid her implication.
35
The exchanged vows suggest that the couple is indeed married.
36
Line 24 is metrically defective. For possible emendations, see Bernard J. Muir, The Exeter DVD. The Exeter
Anthology of Old English Poetry, programming by Nick Kennedy (Exeter: University of Exeter Press, 2006).
37
Again a different outlook on the husband changes the interpretation. Klinck prefers to translate the word as
―enmity‖ and aim it at the wife (183), while Wentersdorf sees the feud finally arising from the secret plotting and
the speaker suffering its consequences (513).
38
The command is impersonal but often regarded as parallel or specification of line 15, though Leslie believes it
to be antithetic and referring to a different event (7).
39
For an elaborate discussion concerning the final part and its many interpretations, see Klinck 185-187.
29
13
have seen the whole passage as a curse, usually aimed at the husband. 40 Leslie, however,
notes that ―the formula A scyle… sceal… is undoubtedly gnomic … one used to introduce a
passage of generalised reflections and maxims‖ and thus views the young man of line 42 as an
impersonal figure.
41
In this case, the passage probably serves as a retreat to stoicism after an
emotional outburst. Klinck, on the other hand, notices that the contradiction of ―a young man
[who] should always be sad in mind, with stern thoughts in heart; [who] must also have a
blithe demeanor along with grief in his breast and a host of everlasting sorrows‖ (42-45a)
seem to recall the description of the husband too much to be impersonal. 42 The passage may
just as well be a combination of these two extremes where a generic young man is
exemplified by the representative character of the husband. While all these possibilities are
acceptable at this point, the conditional sy- clauses are more likely to refer to specifically to
the husband and as such should be subordinate to se min wine (50b) with þæt (47a) beginning
a clause of result dependent on the second sy- clause. The whole passage then would seem to
be a vision of her husband‘s fate; he might be in charge of his fortune (i.e. a happy outcome)
but more probably (judging from the length dedicated to this possibility) he might be a
troubled exile in a situation resembling her own; in the end he will still remember happier
times. The poem ends with an undoubtedly gnomic and bitter reflection. Due to the cryptic
nature of the poem and the numerous controversies it initiates, no interpretation will probably
ever claim the right to be the definitive one. This should not, however, spoil the enjoyment of
The Wife‘s Lament as a powerful piece of poetry.
Wulf and Eadwacer
Though Wulf and Eadwacer is the shortest of the elegies, comprised of only 19 lines,
ever since its first editor Benjamin Thorpe famously admitted that ―of this I can make no
sense, nor am I able to arrange the verses‖43 diverse, some mutually exclusive and some
simply bizarre interpretations continue to emerge, yet the poem remains frustratingly cryptic.
This obscurity led some critics to regard it as a fragment, with lines missing from the
40
This view is adopted by Jane Chance, Woman as Hero in Old English (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press,
1986) 93 and by Greenfield, ―The Wife's Lament Reconsidered,‖ Publications of the Modern Language
Association 68.4 (1953): 907-912, who later changed his opinion in Greenfield, Elegies 118-119. John D. Niles
goes to great pains to provide a literary and historical background of cursing to support this view in ―The
Problem of the Ending of the Wife's ‘Lament,‘‖ Speculum 78.4 (2003): 1107-1150. The affectionate expressions
freond or wine used in this part, however, seem to speak against the idea of a vindictive curse.
41
Leslie 8.
42
Klinck 186.
43
Benjamin Thorpe, Codex Exoniensis (London: Society of Antiquaries of London, 1842) 527.
14
beginning and/or the end,44 but with no evidence of a lacuna in the manuscript this must
remain only an unverifiable possibility. Some of the well-known interpretations include ―a
riddle, a charm, a Frauenlied, a funeral lament, a canine or lupine story … [or] a complaint
about a misplaced passage of verse,‖45 but some of the more light-hearted readings do not do
justice to the poem‘s emotional impact. As with The Wife‘s Lament, some sources or
analogues have been proposed46 but without offering any actual elucidation. To add to the
enigma, the language and verse of the poem is quite unique; it is not the traditional formulaic
verse of the other elegies.47 W. W. Lawrence found such close affinities with Old Norse verse
that he believed the poem to be a translation of it48 and Malone saw the origin in popular, not
courtly tradition.49 The amount of hapax legomena, syntactic difficulties, lack of context and
ambivalence of word meaning and reference make any reading problematic; it is nevertheless
entirely possible that this obscurity was the poet‘s aim. The only facts are the speaker‘s
gender (evinced by the feminine forms reotogu and seoce in line 10 and 14, resp.) and her
lamenting for someone named Wulf. Most critics accept that the poem shows the speaker torn
in a triangle between an outlawed lover Wulf and an unloved husband (or perhaps guardian or
jailor) Eadwacer, but wide ranging opinions also include a single male character 50 or a mother
weeping for her son.51
The first two lines alone demonstrate extreme ambiguity. These speak of someone
being a lac to the speaker‘s people and their reaction (aþecgan) to his coming with a þreat.
Possible readings of the problematic words lac (1b) include ―gift, battle, offering, sacrifice,
message, favor,‖ aþecgan (2a) ―receive, take, consume, kill‖ and þreat (2b) ―troop, host,
army, violence, peril.‖52 It is also uncertain whether line 2 is a statement or question. Some of
these possibilities have been declined as unattested or arising from misinterpretation and some
are simply deemed more probable than others based on grammar or context,53 but it is obvious
44
Klinck 168.
Klinck 47, see notes 62 and 63 on page 69 for sources of these interpretations.
46
Greenfield lists the Signy-Sigmund story and the Wolfdietrich B saga (115).
47
As presented e.g. in Stanley B. Greenfield, ―The Formulaic Expression of the Theme of ‗Exile‘ in AngloSaxon Poetry,‖ Speculum 30.2 (1955): 200-206.
48
William W. Lawrence, ―The First Riddle of Cynewulf,‖ Publications of the Modern Language Association
17.2 (1902): 247–261.
49
Malone 111.
50
These operate with eadwacer ―property watcher‖ being an ironic epithet for Wulf, e.g. John F. Adams ―‘Wulf
and Eadwacer‘: An Interpretation,‖ Modern Language Notes 73.1 (1958): 1-5.
51
Marijane Osborn, ―The Text and Context of Wulf and Eadwacer,‖ The Old English Elegies: New Essays in
Criticism and Research, ed. Martin Green (Rutherford: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 1983) 174-189; D.
W. Frese, "‘Wulf and Eadwacer‘:The Adulterous Woman Reconsidered,‖ Notre Dame English Journal 15.1
(1983): 1-22.
52
These possibilities can be found in Bosworth-Toller, Malone 108, Klinck 168-170 and Peter S. Baker, "The
Ambiguity of ‗Wulf and Eadwacer,‗" Studies in Philology 78.5 (1981): 39-51 .
53
Klinck 168-170.
45
15
very distant interpretations can arise. Apart from the problematic words, of whose effect a
thousand years ago we cannot be certain today, at this point the referent of ―him‖ and ―he‖ in
line 2 is unknown and must have been also to the Anglo-Saxon reader on listener. The poet is
deliberately withholding information to create tension; the play with multiple word meanings
can be then just as deliberate. As will become apparent further, the following lines may or
may not clarify the beginning, thus the only possibility for an interpretation/translation is to
try to preserve this uncertainty, as Arnold E. Davidson did in his composite translation.54
―Us‖ in line 3, usually translated as ―It is different with us‖ can plausibly refer to the speaker
and her people, meaning that their perception of lac is different from hers, but it can just as
well point forward, since line 4 translates ―Wulf is on an island, I on another,‖ followed by a
specification ―that island is secured, surrounded by fen; bloodthirsty men are there on the
island‖ concluded by an almost word for word55 repetition of lines 2 and 3. Wulf is clearly
―he‖ from line 2; Baker further believes these lines clarify the beginning and translates line 2
and 7 as ―they will kill him if he meets their troop‖56 though given the excessive word-play
the bloodthirsty men are not necessarily equal to the speaker‘s people from line 1 and the
repeated phrases can have a completely different meaning. To illustrate the diversity of
opinions, due to the connection of a wolf with outlawry57 Malone has proposed an opposite
interpretation to Baker, suggesting that the bloodthirsty men will welcome him as their own.58
The syntax of lines 9-12 is complicated in terms of subordinated clauses59 and again
word meaning. The generally accepted treatment of the hapax with unknown sense dogode
(9) is an emendation to hogode ‖thought,‖ though some critics consider a connection with
docge ―dog‖ due to the animal imagery present in the poem and translate ―followed (like a
dog),‖60 therefore ―I followed/thought of my Wulf‘s far journeys with hopes, when it was
rainy weather and I sat weeping‖ (9-10). Line 11 is usually taken as a reference to sexual
intercourse.61 With the negative connotations of bilegde62 and bogum63 and line 12 evidencing
54
Arnold E. Davidson, "Interpreting Wulf and Eadwacer," Annuale Mediaevale 16 (1975): 24-32.
The only difference is the adjective ungelic in line 3 and adverbial ungelice in line 8, but Klinck points out that
this is probably a scribal variant with no difference in meaning (170).
56
Baker, Ambiguity 45.
57
―[W]hen a man was proclaimed an outlaw, he was ‗called a wolf‘s head‘.‖ William Henry Schofield, ―Signy's
Lament,‖ Publications of the Modern Language Association 17.2 (1902): 265.
58
Malone 109.
59
Peter S. Baker (in ―Old English Aerobics,‖ 30 August 2011, 17 January 2012
<http://oldenglishaerobics.net/index.html> ) suggests the following possibilities: ―Þonne in l. 10 may mean
'when' and be subordinated to l. 9, and þonne in l. 11 may mean 'when' and be subordinated to l. 12. Or l. 9 may
be a complete sentence, with ll. 10 and 11 coordinated, 'when . . . then'. Or ll. 10 and 11 may be 'when' clauses
subordinated to l. 12.‖ In Ambiguity, he prefers to treat the passage as an apo koinou construction with lines 10
and 11 subordinated to both 9 and 12 (46).
60
Klinck 171-172, Osborn 174.
61
Klinck 173.
55
16
both joy and pain, the act was probably a guilty pleasure at the very least, a rape at worst.
Further, while the meaning of se beaducafa ―the battle-bold one‖ who ―surrounded me with
arms‖ is simple, its reference, however, is not. Wulf might be a possibility here, the pain
arising from knowledge of his near departure, but the implication here seems more
undesirable, pointing perhaps to Eadwacer (whatever his actual relationship to her is)
imposing himself on the speaker.
Lines 13-15 are a call for Wulf; his seldom comings64 and her mourning mind made
the speaker sick, not lack of food.65 The speaker then abruptly addresses Eadwacer (16a)
followed by an image of an earne whelp being carried off by a wolf to the wood (16b-17a).
The nonsensical MS earne is usually emended either to eargne ―vile, wretched‖66 or earmne
―poor, pitiful.‖67 The whelp is commonly understood to be the speaker‘s child, due to the dual
pronoun uncerne ―our,‖ but the father here is less certain. The directly preceding address of
Eadwacer seems to vouch in his favor, but a connection of wolf and whelp point otherwise.
Further, line 17 suggests an action of an animal rather than a human and the pun is hardly
accidental. The last two lines read: ―that easily tears apart what was never united; our tale
together.‖ The word giedd, with a rather general meaning of a narrative, possibly musical
utterance is variously translated but obviously denoting some kind of a relationship. Klinck
notices a parallelism between the two things that are uncer ―our,‖ the whelp and the tale, their
fates connected.68 Why the child is taken to the wood is left unsaid but either emendation to
the adjective earne and especially the viciousness of tosliteð ―tears apart, rends‖ hardly
suggest a happy ending. Is the child Eadwacer‘s, its doom causing the end of a loveless
marriage or unwelcome abuse? Did Wulf take away his offspring never to be seen again,
ending the love affair? Is the situation completely different? A myriad of possibilities have
been considered and others will surely follow but the emotional impact of this short elegy is
the only thing that will remain unassailable.
62
Bosworth-Toller also list ―afflict‖ or ―impose upon‖ as meanings.
Klinck finds the meaning ―shoulders‖ elsewhere only with connection to animals, not humans (173).
64
If the meaning here is literal it opens a possibility for se beaducafa to refer to Wulf; Baker, however, reads this
as ―doubtless litotes for ‗never coming‘‖ Baker, Ambiguity 48.
65
Klinck comments: ―the reference to lack of food seems rather pointless unless the woman has actually suffered
this hardship‖ (174).
66
Baker, Ambiguity 50.
67
Muir, Exeter DVD.
68
Klinck 176.
63
17
The Wanderer
Critical opinions of The Wanderer, a reflection on the personal lot of an exile and on
the universal transience of worldly things, have quite a considerable range. 69 Though the
poem is not as cryptic and ambiguous as The Wife’s Lament or Wulf and Eadwacer, it has also
instigated discussion, mainly concerning its structure. The difficulties of the poem fall mostly
into three categories: first the interplay of secular and Christian elements, second the number
of speakers and third (closely connected with the second) speech boundaries. Earlier critics
have believed the poem to be essentially pagan with the beginning and the end being later
Christian interpolations with perhaps other interfering involved, though already W. W.
Lawrence defended the unity of the poem and its character as a monologue. 70 The
interpolation theory begun losing approval with Bernard Huppé71 and is now commonly
disregarded and the poem is generally treated as structurally unified and unimpaired with
emphasis not on distinguishing Christian and Germanic elements but rather on a dichotomy of
―worldly versus transcendental values‖72 or traditional heroic attitudes and Christian ideas. As
for the matter of the number of speakers, the relatively abrupt change from a personal lament
to a general reflection has given rise to theories proposing a dialogue73 or even a dispute,74
though a monologue theory is prevalent today.75 The question of speech boundaries,
especially concerning whether the beginning and conclusion should be attributed to the
speaker or the poet, has yet to reach a critical consensus apart from a general conviction that
lines 6-7 and 111 are to be attributed to the poet or narrator.
The poem is introduced with a proposition or prologue, presenting its theme of a
sorrowful solitary one who endures the hardships of exile while he gebideð God‘s grace.
Choosing between the two possible meanings of gebideð in line 1, ―awaits‖ or ―experiences,‖
may significantly change the meaning of the passage, however, this may well be a matter of
an inadequate translation and the original verb could have included both meanings or be
deliberately ambiguous. In their edition of the elegy Dunning and Bliss stress the passivity of
the action which is contrasted with an active search for grace in the conclusion.76 Wyrd ―fate‖
69
For overviews of previous scholarship see Klinck 106-126.
W. W. Lawrence, ―The Wanderer and the Seafarer,‖ The Journal of Germanic Philology 4.4 (1902): 460-480.
71
Bernard F. Huppé, ―The ‗Wanderer‘: Theme and Structure,‖ The Journal of Germanic Philology 42.4 (1943):
516-538.
72
Klinck 34.
73
J. C. Pope, ―Dramatic Voices in The Wanderer and The Seafarer,‖ Franciplegius (New York: NY University
Press, 1965) 165-193; he, however, later retracted this view in ―Second Thoughts on the Interpretation of The
Seafarer,‖ Anglo-Saxon England 3 (1974): 75-86.
74
W. F. Bolton, ―The Dimensions of the Wanderer,‖ Leeds Studies in English n.s. 3 (1969): 7-34.
75
Klinck 31.
76
T. P. Dunning and A. J. Bliss, The Wanderer (London: Methuen, 1969) 81-82.
70
18
that is ―fully resolute‖ (5) does not necessarily represent a personification of any deities,
Christian or Germanic, but can be simply an expression of fatalism, an inescapable or
determined event.77 Lines 6-7 are treated as the poet‘s expository comment introducing the
speaker as eardstapa ―a wanderer‖ mindful of battles and his kinsmen‘s death; Dunning and
Bliss extensively argued that swa cwæð ‖so spoke‖ can plausibly refer forward and backward
in a narration,78 which keeps the issue of speech boundaries open.
An account of the wanderer‘s life in first person begins with line 8. He remembers
how he (has) had to79 lament alone since at present he does not dare to voice his sorrows to
anyone. This indicates a theme appearing throughout the poem, i.e. the lack and impossibility
of communication due to the absence of someone to share thoughts with (echoed e.g. in lines
31 and 38). Klinck believes he laments all alone also because ―reticence is virtue,‖80 as
expressed in the aphorism of lines 11b-18. However, if the monologue is told from a position
of wisdom the speaker gains in the end (as Dunning and Bliss suggest 81) another possibility
seems to be that at present he does not dare to speak openly about his lamentation in the past
possibly because it is a noble custom to bind one‘s thoughts but more importantly, as he soon
understood, complaining against the workings of fate is futile (15-16). Therefore, those eager
for glory82 do not voice their sorrows just as the speaker was obliged to, though he was in a
miserable state ever since his lord died a long time ago (17-23a). Greenfield comments that
exile due to the loss of a lord ―must have been a frequent unpleasant reality … as well as a
popular literary topos.‖83 The speaker then recounts how he traveled over the waves in search
of a new treasure giver who would console him (24b-29a). Line 27b is metrically unusual
with several emendations suggested, usually with the meaning of the lord feeling affection or
concern for the speaker.84 With line 29b a reflection on the fate of exiles in the third person
begins. The one who has now only sorrow as a companion remembers the joys of his youth
among a company of retainers until he gives in to sorrow and sleep, dreaming of a ceremony
in the hall.85 The syntax and interpretation of the whole dream sequence and especially of
77
Klinck 107.
Dunning-Bliss 30-36.
79
The perfect rather than preterite is believed to be more probable in Dunning-Bliss 84.
80
Klinck 31.
81
Dunning-Bliss 82.
82
Bolton comments that glory here can be either of an earthly or heavenly kind (23) and while Dunning and
Bliss prefer to emphasize the negative connotations of one too dependent on the opinions of others (45) the word
can plausibly work in a Christian context.
83
Greenfield, Elegies 98.
84
For various emendation suggestions see Klinck 110-11.
85
Dunning-Bliss discuss the possible nature of this ceremony (112-113).
78
19
lines 45-57 is difficult,86 but the general meaning is clear. The dreamer awakes and perhaps in
a half-awakened state still relishes the memory of his kinsmen which is only to be replaced
with the reality of screeching seabirds.
Line 58 is generally seen as the beginning of the wanderer‘s turn toward wisdom; a
realization of the transience of the world. However, critics disagree on the mindset of the
speaker, i.e. whether his mind does or does not grow dark.87 While Lumiansky takes lines 5859 as the wanderer surprisingly not being saddened because of the wisdom he has already
gained,88 in light of the melancholy and reflection further in the poem it appears probable that
the wanderer at this point rather sees no reason why his mind should not grow dark when
faced with the horrors and mutability in this world, eventually compelling him to seek
security and comfort beyond it. For the first time seeing his suffering in a larger context of the
whole world perishing day by day (62a-63) he turns toward wisdom that one can only attain
after he lives through ―his share of winters‖ (64-65a); when coupled with the knowledge
gained through sorrow of loneliness (29b-31) it seems that understanding comes through
experience and suffering. In the maxim of lines 65b-72 he endorses moderation or perhaps
avoidance of certain personal traits89 until a man attains wisdom. The following passage (7380a) begins with ―a clear reference to the end of the world,‖90 i.e. a future time when the
whole world lays wasted (73) analogous to the present time (connected by a swa clause) when
halls are decaying and retainers perish, the fates of their corpses specified by a sum passage
either involving an inventive use of the beasts of battle motif or inspired by Christian
homilies.91 No seeming stability of the world stands a chance compared to the destructive
might of the Creator and the local deterioration will inevitably spread to the whole world.
Lines 88-91, where the wise one is seen pondering the horrors of this life, introduce a
famous ubi sunt passage. Some believe this passage to be a speech within a speech of an
imaginary contemplative92 but Dunning and Bliss‘ suggestion of attributing lines 88-91 to the
poet93 seems more reasonable.94 The poet thus presents the contemplative wise man with a
86
See Klinck 113-118.
Klinck 118-119.
88
R. M. Lumiansky, "The Dramatic Structure of the Old English Wanderer," Neophilologus 34.1 (1950): 106.
89
Bruce Mitchell believes the passage involves a series of understatements and that the qualities in question
should be avoided completely in ―Some Syntactical Problems in The Wanderer,‖ Neuphilologische Mitteilungen
69 (1968): 194-198.
90
Dunning-Bliss 118.
91
Klinck 122-123.
92
Klinck 31; Lumiansky 106.
93
Dunning-Bliss 80.
94
The situation the speaker is put in here is probably indeed imaginary, nevertheless discussions of what is
imaginary and what realistic are unnecessary, since the whole poem is hardly an authentic account of a single
man‘s life and fate.
87
20
swa cwæð variant ond þas word acwið (91b) which in this case refers to the wanderer‘s
following final cry of regret because it is a part of ―a common formula designed to introduce a
speech.‖95 The wanderer has gained wisdom through his experience and understands, through
his final, almost apocalyptic vision, that riches, friend, man and kinsman (or woman) are only
læne ―on loan‖ or ―transitory‖ here in this inevitably mutable world. The narrator intervenes
in line 111, the first of the hypermetric conclusion, to signify the wanderer in the final stage
of his development; he is now snottor ―a sage, wise one‖ who sits in private inward reflection
and he (or the poet) speaks the final words of wisdom: it is good to keep one's faith and not to
reveal torn ―resentment, wrath‖ too quickly (since such protests achieve nothing) unless one
knows and can bring about the remedy for the sorrows of the world, i.e. the active search for
God‘s grace and consolation, for only in heaven the true security and stability stands. The
progress of the once lonely and desperate wanderer to a wise man fully aware of his situation
and the path before him is complete.
The Seafarer
Commonly perceived as The Wanderer‘s companion piece, The Seafarer indeed
shares some of its themes as well as critical controversies.96 With an even sharper
psychological reversal than that of line 58 in The Wanderer, the poem was also perceived as a
dialogue, usually between a seasoned seafarer and a young, inexperienced sailor eager to go
on a voyage, and some parts have been disregarded as interpolations. The dialogue theory was
again already rejected by W. W. Lawrence (though he believed in the poem‘s unity only until
line 64a, the rest being an addition)97 and also by its earlier proponent J. C. Pope.98 Belief in
interpolations and additions is still current to some degree though; this is especially true
concerning the part beginning with line 103 which is located on a new folio in the manuscript
and shows signs of textual corruption and obscurity. This part can possibly be of ―a different
and later provenance‖99 than the rest of the poem. Nevertheless, even if the poem is a unified
and unimpaired monologue, the seeming paradoxes are not explained. Because of the poem‘s
quite explicit Christian outlook it lends itself to allegorical interpretations more easily than
The Wanderer and many such readings were proposed, among others seeing the speaker as a
95
Dunning-Bliss 32.
For a comprehensive overview of critical history, see Corey Owen, ―The Seafarer: A Hypertext Edition,‖
University of Saskatchewan, 1999, 20 Feb. 2012 <http://www.usask.ca/english/seafarer/TOC.htm>.
97
See above note 70.
98
See above note 73 for Pope‘s articles supporting and later rejecting the dialogue theory.
99
Klinck 143.
96
21
symbol of all men who are exiles on earth since Adam‘s fall.100 On the other hand, Dorothy
Whitelock‘s influential article views the speaker as a literal and voluntary exile, a peregrinus
who wanders for the love of God,101 thus starting a string of literal readings; Ida Gordon also
argues against an allegorical interpretation.102 Literal and allegorical views in criticism still
compete today but most critics would agree that some kind of a deeper spiritual meaning of
the seafarer‘s voyage cannot be denied.103
With a beginning that closely resembles the introduction of The Wife’s Lament the
speaker recounts the frost, hunger and loneliness he suffered as an exile at sea and twice in
this passage (12b-13, 27-29a) he compares his lot to a prosperous man living on the land, who
is ignorant of his misery. Line 27a contains the first of the frequent occurrences of forþon,
here probably a loose connective that Lawrence104 suggests i.e. ―so‖ or ―indeed.‖ A real crux
comes with forþon of line 33b where the usual translation ―therefore‖ would suggest that the
speaker is eager to travel to sea again because of all the hardships he has just enumerated. 105
The explication also depends on the meanings of cnyssað (33b) and sylf (35b). To avoid the
apparently nonsensical implication of sylf, i.e. that the speaker has not yet travelled the sea,
this word is taken to emphasize a different nature of the proposed journey from the previous
one described in lines 1-33a.106 Gordon comments that the basic meaning of cnyssan is ―beat
against‖ meaning that his thoughts urge him to undertake a new voyage, 107 but in accordance
with Klinck108 notes the negative, distressing connotations of this word rather than eagerness.
If this is accepted, their explanation to see the forþon of lines 33b and 39a as correlative is
logical. The meaning of lines 33b-43 is then that the seafarer‘s thoughts agitate him while he
wishes to go to sea and seek the land of foreigners109 for the reason that there is no one,
however prosperous, who is not concerned about the result of his sea venture. The phrase
elþeodigra eard (38), the seafarer‘s designated destination, has been a major issue in
assessing whether the voyage is literal or allegorical 110 but whether taken literally as ―the land
of foreigners‖ or as the heavenly home of all men who are exiled from God, the speaker‘s
100
G. V. Smithers, "The Meaning of The Seafarer and The Wanderer," Medium Ævum 26.3 (1957): 137-53.
Dorothy Whitelock, "The Interpretation of The Seafarer," Early Cultures of Northwest Europe, ed. Cyril Fox
and Bruce Dickins (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1950) 261-272.
102
Ida L. Gordon, The Seafarer (London: Methuen, 1964) 6.
103
Klinck 37.
104
Lawrence, The Wanderer and the Seafarer 463-465.
105
This paradox and the use of sylf initiated the abovementioned dialogue theories in earlier criticism.
106
Greenfield translates ―of my own accord‖ and stresses the volition of this journey in "Min, Sylf, and Dramatic
Voices in The Seafarer," The Journal of Germanic Philology 68.2 (1969): 218, while Pope accentuates his
isolation with ―alone‖ (Second Thoughts 78-80); the word may plausibly include both meanings.
107
Gordon 3.
108
Klinck 132.
109
An ―apparently parenthetic explanation of why he is about to venture on the ocean‖ according to Gordon (3).
110
Greenfield, Elegies 107-108.
101
22
intent on abandoning the world he is acquainted with is clear. This sentiment is further
reinforced by the following passage (44-47) in which the prospective seafarer has only the
rolling waves on his mind and not the typical pleasures of the heroic society. Nevertheless,
according to Gordon111 longunge (47a) illustrates the emotional complexity the speaker shows
towards his prospective voyage in that the word carries the connotations of both ―anxiety‖ and
―yearning.‖ Signs of spring (48-49) further urge the seafarer to journey (50-52) as does the
cuckoo‘s voice though it presages not only summer but also sorrow (53-55a).112 The exile‘s
path is again compared to the ignorant efteadig113 man.
The speaker‘s trepidations are finally resolved in lines 58-66a. This passage contains
two forþon connectives (58a, 64b), again very likely correlative;114 its meaning then would be
that the speaker‘s spirit leaves his body and undertakes a considerable voyage and returns
eager and greedy, the ―lone-flyer‖115 incites him to journey over the ocean, because the joys
of the Lord are warmer than this dead, transitory life on land. 116 The idea of the mind leaving
the body has been linked to pagan and Christian origins;117 nevertheless, the passage describes
a definite conviction of the speaker‘s goal to embark on a quest for heavenly glory118 and a
confident realization of the transience of life on earth, which is further elaborated upon. After
this point the homiletic half of the poem begins, which completely lacks any references to
seafaring. The speaker distrusts all earthly constancy; even the time left before one dies (death
being the only inevitability in the world) is uncertain due to illness, age or battle (66b-71). It
is therefore best to use one‘s time on earth to fight against devil, which will guarantee both
earthly and heavenly glory (73-80a).119
The following passage again reflects on the
deterioration and transitory nature of worldly glories, where the weak rule instead of the great
leaders of the past (80b-89), and on the decay and numbness of old age and unavoidable death
of each man (90-96). The next passage (97-102) has been disputed in terms of possible
111
Gordon 7.
Gordon comments that the cuckoo as a harbinger of sorrow is a widespread traditional idea though its closest
inspiration possibly comes from Old Welsh (17).
113
The MS word is universally emended, either to esteadig or sefteadig, both denoting a man in pleasurable
circumstances, though some (e.g. Greenfield, Elegies 107) consider the reference to be different this time.
114
Klinck 131.
115
The anfloga ―lone-flyer‖ has been linked to the cuckoo of line 53 (Gordon 41) or to hyge ―spirit‖ of line 58
(Greenfield, Elegies 107).
116
Londe (66a) has the dual meaning of ―land‖ and ―earth‖ as opposed to the sea and heaven respectively,
providing thus a final seafaring reference and a transition to the homiletic part of the poem (Klinck 139).
117
Klinck 138.
118
MS wælweg (63a) is commonly emended to hwælweg ―whale-way,‖ but Smithers advocates the MS version
and reads ―road taken by the dead‖ with analogues in Christian homilies to support an eschatological reading of
the whole poem (138-141).
119
Gordon comments on the awkwardness of syntax in this passage and proposes emendations (43).
112
23
reference to pagan burial customs and yet again the difficulty of syntax;120 the general
meaning is that wealth, whether adorning a brother‘s grave or hoarded during life, will not
save the sinful soul from God‘s judgment.
As was already mentioned, the hypermetric line 103 begins a new folio in the
manuscript and the final lines of the poem show evidence of textual corruption and possible
interpolations, especially after line 108,121 but there are enough connections in thought and
diction to defend this passage as a component of the poem. The content of this part is gnomic
wisdom and Christian caution. Lines 103-116 elaborate on God‘s power; man should fear him
and live humbly, honestly and with moderation toward friend and foe122 to attain the grace of
heaven, otherwise death will come to him unexpectedly, for God‘s power is stronger than
anyone can conceive. The last part is a purely homiletic exhortation in the second person to
think upon where the true home is and to strive to reach it and heavenly bliss. Ending thus
with ―a miniature sermon in itself‖123 the speaker fully reveals himself for who he has, in
effect, become: a homilist spreading the word of God.
120
Klinck 141-142, Gordon 45-46.
Gordon 11.
122
Lines 111-115a are especially corrupted and their meaning obscure, referring to the fires (of Hell), from
which one cannot hope to rescue a friend, to funeral pyres or perhaps to an enemy wishing to burn someone,
among other possibilities.
123
R.F. Leslie, "The Meaning and Structure of The Seafarer," The Old English Elegies: New Essays in Criticism
and Research, ed. Martin Green (Rutherford: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press) 117.
121
24
Analysis of the Themes of Separation and Solitude
The Wife’s Lament
Even though there is little agreement concerning the actual tale The Wife’s Lament
tells, probably no one would disagree with Leslie in that ―the primary purpose of the poet was
to evoke a mood, not to tell a story.‖124 The speaker‘s present state is indeed central to the
poem and Alain Renoir was no doubt right when he situated the poem within the reading
context of the tradition of suffering women,125 which is demonstrated by the frequency of
words and phrases expressing sadness and sorrow, e.g. geomor, modcearu or breostcearu.
Sorrow, however, is the result; its cause in this poem is represented by an overarching theme
of isolation and loneliness, be it within or out of society.
Just as other elegies The Wife’s Lament uses the common theme of exile to describe
her situation. Already in the introduction she proposes to speak about her wræcsiþa (5b)
―journeys of exile,‖ uses the same word later (38b) as the object of her weeping and calls
herself a wineleas wrecca (10a) ―friendless exile.‖ As the precise nature of the speaker‘s
banishment is open to discussion, rather than demonstrating actual exile, these expressions
seem evident of her alienation; the occurrence in line 10 suggesting it even among her
husband‘s men. When further connected with the litotes leofra lyt (16a), the ―few friends‖ that
she had, it seems safe to assume that she was a foreigner in her husband‘s land. Here it is
possible to conjecture with Wentersdorf that she could have been a friðowebba, a woman
keeping peace between her native country and that of her husband‘s through marriage,126
which might account for the kinsmen‘s hostility towards her.
While the plot to todældan (12b) ―divide‖ husband and wife obviously succeeded and
the couple was physically separated, their estrangement had begun already before this event.
The man that seemed so suitable for her proved to be a liar (mod miþendne ―concealing his
mind‖ in 20a), an aggressor (morþor hycgendne ―mindful of murder‖ in 20b) and a vowbreaker (the vows expressed in 21b-23a are onhworfen ―changed‖ in 23b). Even if all these
acts were conceived for the wife‘s protection, the result is that their love is now as if it never
existed (24-25a) and the speaker‘s alienation from her husband complete.
The only way to escape such emotional seclusion, a sense of being alone among many,
and possible hostile intentions proved to be physical isolation. In lines 27-42 the speaker
124
Leslie 10.
Renoir 225-236.
126
Wentersdorf 511.
125
25
gives details of her dwelling after the separation. This part is undeniably the emotional climax
of the poem and deserves a translation in full:
I was ordered to live in a wooden grove, under an oak tree, in an earth-cave. This
earthen hall is ancient, I am overcome with longing. The valleys are dark, hills lofty,
cruel enclosures127 overgrown with briars, a joyless abode. Very often my lord‘s
absence cruelly afflicted me here. There are friends on earth, lovers living and lying
abed, while I before dawn wander alone under the oak tree, through these earthen
caves. Here I may sit, the summer long day; here I can bemoan my banishment, my
many hardships, for I can never find relief for my sorrowing heart, or from the
overwhelming longing that seized me in this life.128
In this powerful interplay the hostile and claustrophobic natural surroundings reinforce the
torture of her mind and in her desperate longing she recalls her husband. The unfulfilled
desire for probably both emotional and physical129 connection is further intensified by an
image of lovers happily sharing a bed, something the speaker must have experienced only
briefly if at all and even then the memory would be colored by her present despair. The
reference to an early morning in line 35, on uhtan, is significant; even if the precise time
reference is uncertain, uht is associated with loneliness and misery, it is ―a time of terror
without solace.‖130 The speaker‘s loneliness becomes extreme with no hope of improvement,
her surroundings equal to a prison where she is only free to lament and yearn.
Leslie noticed that ―longing‖ is an important keyword that binds together parts of the
poem; it ―appears at points of dramatic and emotional intensity in lines 14, 29, 41 and 53 …
always with increasing emphasis,‖131 and it would seem that while her desire cannot be
satisfied, there is at least a possibility for appeasement. Shifting first to a more impersonal,
perhaps gnomic utterance (which may refer specifically to her husband) she distances herself
from her own desolation so acutely felt in such desolate environment. Edward B. Irving
suggests that ―only the imagination can move [the speaker] out of this prison,‖132 and she
presently imagines her husband in a situation similar to her own, a weary exile as isolated and
lonely as she has always been. In this vision she achieves something that has so far eluded
127
Burgtunas ―fortified enclosures‖ could mean an abandoned settlement (Klinck 184), an ancient earthwork
(Leslie 56) or figuratively the surrounding hills, proposed by Peter S. Baker, Aerobics.
128
Translation mine.
129
Klinck takes the lines 33b-36 as an expression of the speaker‘s sexual loneliness (185).
130
E. G. Stanley, "Old English Poetic Diction and the Interpretation of The Wanderer, The Seafarer, and The
Penitent's Prayer," Anglia 73 (1956): 434.
131
Leslie 12.
132
Edward B. Irving, Jr., ―Image and Meaning in the Elegies,‖ Old English Poetry: Fifteen Essays, ed. R.P.
Creed (Providence: Brown University Press, 1967) 158.
26
her; a connection, if only imaginary. That the couple is in the end united in their misery and
memory of happier times only adds to the bitterness of the final statement, in which she
encompasses all lovers living in separation: ―Woe be it to them who must abide longing for
their beloved‖ (52b-53).
Wulf and Eadwacer
As it is, Wulf and Eadwacer offers no certainties concerning the story, but with its
lyrical form and a highly emotional and subjective point of view, the plot seems only
secondary to the mood it evokes. The themes of longing and separation are displayed with
great effectiveness and economy. Ralph Elliott comments on the remarkability of such
―amount of detail [the poem] manages to pack into its short compass.‖133 The verse, as was
already mentioned, is unlike the verse of other elegies and it displays some tendency toward a
strophic form.134 Its unique language does not make use of the usual poetic stock; the diction
is rather simple and the rhetoric based on repetition rather than variation as is common in
other poems. Perhaps because of all these poetic qualities the elegy is so powerful and
moving. The intense but ambivalent feelings coming from a sense of separation are only
strengthened by ambiguities of word meanings.
The main theme is reflected in the repeated phrase ungelic(e) is us (3,8). One
participant of the reference of ―us‖ is obviously the speaker. Interestingly, the two parties that
come to mind when considering complementing this reference, i.e. Wulf or the speaker‘s
people, are both recognized as ―my,‖ the people in line 1 and Wulf in lines 9 and 13.
However, Marijane Osborn calls attention to the figure of tmesis (separation of a phrasal unit
by intervening words), in leodum is minum (1) and wulfes ic mines (9); the detached
possessives here conflict with the sense of belonging.135 Thus, in the ―refrain‖ the speaker
voices her alienation and separation from those who should have been close to her, with
possible added emphasis from the tmesis. The speaker‘s separation from Wulf is further
explored, especially in lines 4-7 where they are parted by water and fen on two islands. This
constitutes a powerful image of loneliness, but with no further clarification apart from the
bloodthirsty men on Wulf‘s island (who probably represent a danger to Wulf, but as was
mentioned earlier, the situation can be interpreted otherwise), the pair‘s situation at this point
is at least similar and balanced. Later, however, the difference grows. The speaker‘s physical
133
Ralph W. V. Elliott, ―Form and Image in Old English Lyrics,‖ Essays in Criticism 11.1 (1961): 3.
Klinck 48.
135
Osborne 177.
134
27
passivity is contrasted with Wulf‘s far wanderings; she can, similarly to the speaker of The
Wife’s Lament longing for her lord, only hope for him, sit and weep in a poignant unity with
rain. While other elegies also compare their speaker‘s inner turmoil with hostile weather, line
10 achieves, in Elliott‘s words, ―and almost Shakespearian union of the mental and the
elemental with a superb economy of diction.‖136 The action expressed in line 11 can at first
sight indicate an attempt to comfort the speaker after line 10, but the pleasure and pain felt in
the act along with the negative connotations of bilegde seem to point in a more unfavorable
direction, to some kind of forced confinement.
Bearing in mind the emphasis on the name Wulf and usage of ―whelp‖ Klinck
comments on the extensive use of animal imagery in the poem, not only in the
aforementioned words but also possibly dogode (if the emendation is not accepted), bogum,
tosliteð and considers them ―half-mocking‖137 and a device of ―objectifying irony.‖138 This
imagery could have plausibly been triggered simply as a play on the meaning of the name
Wulf but they also seem to add to the roughness of the speaker‘s experience. In the passionate
outburst of lines 13-15 she voices her emotional desperation but the reference to a lack of
food in line 15b gives further evidence of her physical situation; even though the tormenting
sorrow stemming from separation is prioritized, there can be little doubt that she has suffered
physically as well.
Even without completely understanding to whom or what the final part (lines 15-19)
of the poem refers, the overarching theme of separation is obvious here. Some commentators
have noticed that line 18 is somehow reminiscent of Matthew 19:6, ―what God has joined
together, let man not separate‖139 but this is by no means proof that the lines indeed refer to a
marriage or love affair. Nevertheless, the seeming paradox of easily tearing apart ―our tale
together‖ (19) that was never even united definitely signifies some kind of a dysfunctional or
incomplete relationship between two (uncerne) people coming to a possibly violent end. This
ending may or may not be welcome but it definitely concludes an image of an isolated
woman, whose sense of belonging has been disrupted, whose lot is ―unlike‖ anyone else‘s
and, with no mention of a happier past, who has suffered alone.
136
Elliott 5.
Klinck 47.
138
Klinck 49.
139
Klinck 176-177.
137
28
The Wanderer
James Rosier commented on The Wanderer that ―what is most absorbing about the
poem is neither the beginning nor the end but the progress itself.‖ 140 Framed by a Christian
perspective, the poem begins with a personal evocation of the miseries and loneliness of exile
but when the search for security in this world repeatedly ends in disappointment, his
recognition of the universality and inevitability of suffering and decay is imminent. Even
though the speaker progressively distances himself from memories of his personal past and
futile hope while aiming for a more general perspective, the heroic past is never rejected or
looked upon with scorn. A sense of regret is discernible throughout the poem. The wanderer
indeed found the path to the only true stability that is God‘s grace but he is only at the
beginning of his search for it. The message then seems to be that of realization and adapting
to a new order when old certainties have failed.
It is noteworthy that the wanderer‘s initial situation is not unlike the state the speakers
of the previously discussed elegies found themselves in; he also laments his exile in acutely
felt loneliness and in the first half of the poem (i.e. until line 58) many poetic phrases reflect
this isolation. Already in the first line he is anhaga ―the solitary one,‖ freomægum feor ―far
from kinsmen,‖ etc. His initial condition of being ana ―alone‖ is echoed in the final situation
where he gesæt him sundor æt rune ―sat apart in counsel‖ indicating that the theme of
loneliness and subsequent impossibility of communication is an integral part of the poem,
despite its final acceptance. Sorrow, wretchedness and inner turmoil are also plentiful
(modcearig, hean, earmcearig, hreo hyge etc.) along with natural imagery that heightens
these feelings. Stanley commented that the usage of darkness, dawn, cold and frost often
lacked any factuality in Old English poetry and their use as metaphors for a mood was more
important than realism.141 Of winter imagery, present throughout the whole poem, he says:
―[w]inter is the season of cold terror. To wander alone in a scene of wintery desolation is to
feel all the misery there can be on earth.‖142 Despite the ubiquitous references to despair the
speaker acknowledges the impropriety of giving voice to them in his maxims, unlike the
freely lamenting female speakers of other elegies. Therefore, the references to binding of
thoughts (fæste binde, feterum sælan) and the body‘s enclosure (ferðlocan, hordcofan) imply
an effort to calm his inner anxiety, while perhaps also still feeling obliged to observe the
customs of the comitatus.
140
James L. Rosier, ―The Literal-Figurative Identity of The Wanderer,‖ Publications of the Modern Language
Association 79.4 (1964): 366.
141
Stanley 436-438.
142
Stanley 441.
29
If with the shift to third person in line 29b the speaker tried to distance himself further
from the individual experience and generally reflect on the fate of exiles, his attempt still
contains a dream sequence that appears to be the most personal and emotional experience in
the poem. Bolton believes that the passage is difficult precisely because it is about failure to
understand, ―the mind returning to the body but imperfectly reunited with it.‖143 Sleep as a
result of anxiety and sheer exhaustion brings only momentary comfort and the dream soon
acquires a hallucinatory quality. Whether the dear kinsmen of his memories are only likened
to seabirds swimming away or actually mistaken for them, the result is the same. Full
awakening to reality only reminds the wanderer of his misery. The word oft (40, 53) further
suggests that this is a repeated experience; the intensity of the speaker‘s desperation is
greatest after waking up, presumably in the lonely hours of uht.144 On the other hand, the very
unreality that the dream repeatedly bestows on memories of the past could have been
instrumental in the wanderer finally gaining a distance from them.
The reason for all of the wanderer‘s unhappiness is significant in that his exile is in no
way self-inflicted; presumably his only fault was that he survived, unlike his lord and
kinsmen. The end of the seeming security and comfort of the comitatus had left him alone at
the mercy of fate. He clings to memories in vain, since what he desires no longer exists. With
any consolation in hopes of finding a new lord proving futile and the comfort of dreams only
illusory, there is no reason at all why the wanderer‘s mind should not yield to darkness and
hopelessness. Being wrenched from all seeming certainties and encountering only constant
disappointment has nevertheless allowed him to gain a new and detached perspective. J. B.
Traherne comments that an aspect of an Anglo-Saxon Christian thought was belief that their
world is in decline and that ―there was no permanence to be expected in the earthly
existence.‖145 This perspective allows the collapse of the speaker‘s own world and values to
be seen as a part of the transience of everything worldly. Lines 62b-65a imply that before this
understanding can be achieved one must witness and experience dissolution of personal
security, which indeed the speaker has already done. After this point there is no mention of
any necessarily personal or inner sufferings, isolation or sorrow, only a generalized reflection
on the inevitable destruction of all on earth. Greenfield notices a shift from a viewpoint that is
143
Bolton 26.
See above page 26.
145
J. B. Traherne, ―Fatalism and the Millennium,― The Cambridge Companion to Old English Literature, ed.
Godden and Lapidge (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991) 165.
144
30
inside the hall in the first half of the poem to a distanced perspective focused not even on a
hall but on a ruined wall.146
Though the speaker has achieved a quite detached outlook, metaphorical images of
winter are not absent from the second half of the poem. Even the ubi sunt motif is ―full of
passionate regret‖147 rather than scorn more prevalent in typical usage of the motif. The
wanderer has become conscious of his situation but his reflections were never without
melancholy. Further, while the speaker of The Seafarer chose his course of action voluntarily
the wanderer had no other option. As was already discussed, his exile was not self-imposed
and neither was the subsequent necessity to somehow come to terms with it. Elizabeth Hait
believes that the speaker is aware of the consolation that awaits him in heaven but he is not
necessarily reconciled with his past.148 The wise one‘s mind is no longer plagued with painful
memories of old misery; he understands that his own loss is small compared to the earth‘s
transience and his only option is to seek permanence in God. This notion is nevertheless
merely accepted and not eagerly welcomed.
The Seafarer
Not unlike The Wanderer, The Seafarer is also a story of gaining a new understanding
through separation. However, unlike the other solitaries of the elegies, the poem offers no
insight into the seafarer‘s pre-exilic life and society, though lines 44-49 suggest that it perhaps
remains intact but his experience precludes him from returning to it. His isolation on sea
becomes alienation on land and, along with a full realization of the inadequacy and transient
nature of heroic values, it leads to a rejection of the previously desired but now empty and
transitory earthly life. True comfort can be found only in Heaven. He thus resolves to go to
sea again, voluntarily this time, on a journey that would eventually win the grace of God.
There is no necessity to view this as an allegory. Gordon acknowledges Rosteutscher‘s theory
that ―in Anglo-Saxon elegy, under the influence of Christian ideas, the state of exile itself,
its loneliness and suffering, came to be regarded in poetic convention as a sort of 'pilgrim's
progress' that would bring the sufferer nearer to the hope of heavenly life.‖149 The seafarer‘s
voluntary exile is a symbol of a quest, where renunciation of earthly comfort and an active
confrontation of adversities (opposed to earlier passive endurance) becomes the path to
146
Greenfield, Elegies 101.
Klinck 34.
148
Elizabeth A. Hait, ―The Wanderer's Lingering Regret,‖ Neophilologus 68.2 (1984): 286.
149
I.L. Gordon, "Traditional Themes in The Wanderer and The Seafarer," Review of English Studies n. s. 5.17
(1954): 11.
147
31
eternal bliss. It also becomes the only way to overcome the sorrow and isolation a crumbling
heroic society offers instead of earlier security and pleasures.
The first part of the poem, lines 1-33a, speaks of the exilic experience on sea in poetic
language with expressions of exile (wreccan lastum), inner sorrow (breostceare), loneliness
(winemægum bidroren), frost and hostile weather (iscealdne sæ, hægl scurum fleag) and
general suffering (geswincdagum) abundant. The experience is obviously very personal (ic is
used 6 times in this part) and dangerous; the physical hardship and deprivation being acutely
felt. The unique compound cearselda (5b) constitutes an ―anti-hall‖ image150 and in accord
with the following list of sea-birds‘ cries in place of the merry sounds of the hall (19b-26)
shows the ordeal on sea for what it is: a perversion and mockery of the heroic order. In this
view it seems logical to see the contrast the speaker draws between himself and the
prosperous landlubber as wistful and envious of his happiness rather than condemning,151
though the adjectives wlonc ond wingal (29a) may suggest criticism.152 Even if the speaker‘s
situation prior to this voyage is uncertain, here the seabird series implies that he has
knowledge of the comfort and joys of the hall but is now deprived of them. Significantly,
there is no indication of the reasons for the speaker‘s exile and no mention of a destination.
This part shows no more than a passive experience (gebiden 4a) of anguish; it is therefore
hardly imaginable that this voyage was undertaken voluntarily.
In the view of the following part of the poem, the beginning seems to exemplify lines
64-65a of The Wanderer where one is said to be able to attain wisdom only after his share of
winters (and suffering) in this world. A separation from the joys of the hall has allowed the
seafarer to gain a new and distanced outlook; the certainties of heroic life were helpless
against the dangers of the sea; he has endured hardships unimaginable by those living in
comfort on land and after his return ―he finds that his isolation at sea has resulted in an
equally intolerable isolation at home, where his experiences are unshared, unknown, scarcely
credited, in short denied … validity.‖153 The heroic society has failed him and he can no
longer partake in its pleasures, being rather forced to question its values. He obviously
concludes that life on land is no longer something to desire but rather something transitory to
be renounced. He can only return to sea, this time with a destination in mind, elþeodigra eard.
At this point ―the land of foreigners/exiles‖ is better taken literally, as a land over the sea the
150
Klinck 127.
A view supported by Greenfield in "Attitudes and Values in The Seafarer," Hero and Exile (London: The
Hambledon Press, 1989) 157 and Peter Orton in "The Form and Structure of The Seafarer," Old English
Literature: Critical Essays, ed. R.M. Liuzza (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2002) 356-357.
152
Klinck 131.
153
Orton 360.
151
32
now voluntary exile can seek as a refuge,154 though there is no denying an additional symbolic
meaning which it most obviously gains in the closing lines of the poem, in ham ―home‖ (117).
Still, even if the seafarer seems intent on undertaking the voyage and signs of spring
and summer155 further urge him, a sense of anxiety emerges quite clearly from the passage 3957. The negative connotations of cnyssað and probably also longunge, the mournful cuckoo‘s
voice announcing sorrows, the speaker‘s uncertainty about the outcome of his voyage and
God‘s intentions all convey a hesitant, doubtful attitude,156 which is hardly surprising in the
view of his earlier ordeal. His trepidation is resolved only when his spirit undertakes the
voyage he both fears and desires and returns greedy for the Lord‘s joys. Interestingly, after
the speaker becomes fully determined about his prospective voyage the issue is dropped
completely and not referred to further; the rest is general and impersonal and emphasizes the
mortality, decay and the uselessness of earthly wealth and glory in the face of God‘s
judgment. It appears that after relating the story of his own progress toward embracing a new
outlook, the speaker assumes a role of a homilist and persuades others to put their trust in God
rather than into the transient earthly realm.
One of the differences noticed157 between The Wanderer and The Seafarer is often that
of the seafarer‘s voluntary rejection of false joys against the wanderer being rather a victim of
fate who simply has to learn to accept his situation. Then again, the seafarer‘s circumstances
do not present him with a wide array of options either. In his case, withdrawal from society
―offers the only alternative to despair.‖158 The actual difference is thus, it would seem, in a
level of acceptance of the new Christian point of view. While the wanderer never ceases to
regret the past, the seafarer resolves his alienation by renouncing ―this dead life‖ and joyfully
embracing, even spreading these new values. He has, more so than any of the other elegy
speakers, found a true remedy for the alienation and loneliness a transitory heroic way of life
offers.
154
Orton 362; also Greenfield, Elegies 108, as a symbolic means of renunciation.
While Leslie sees the world hastening through the seasons as a sign of transience (Meaning and Structure
106), Orton thinks that the speaker is more restless simply because summer is the optimal season for seafaring
(364).
156
A view shared by Greenfield, Attitudes and Values 15-20 and Orton 361-362.
157
Stanley 463.
158
Orton 369.
155
33
Comparison of Themes
It is now obvious that one of the very few undeniable essential elements common to
the discussed elegies is a ―sense of separation: a distance in time or space between someone
and their desire.‖159 The individual speakers have been torn away from all meaningful
relationships and left to suffer in isolation. However, there is a marked difference in this
experience between the male and female speakers of the elegies; the women do not primarily
desire the safety of the comitatus nor do they eventually accept its loss and find consolation in
God as the men do. Further, the progress for which the two male elegies are noted is nowhere
to be seen in the female lyrics; instead they have a distinctive stationary nature, focus on a
singular moment in time and its emotional exploration. It is necessary to point out that these
contrasts are likely grounded less on the contemporaneous social reality and more on the
nature of the literary constructs, i.e. their postulated respective affinities with homiletic
literature and love lyrics. Nevertheless, their comparison provides an interesting opportunity
to shed light on the male and female literary experience of those who have become the
casualties of the heroic world.
Before a comparison of the male and female elegies will be attempted, the differences
between Wulf and Eadwacer and The Wife’s Lament on one hand and The Wanderer and The
Seafarer on the other should be pointed out, in order to understand that while they are often
perceived as companion pieces, they are not straightforwardly identical. Apart from the
difference of the poems themselves in their structure and poetic stock160, contrasts between
the two female elegies are mostly based upon Wulf and Eadwacer‘s narrative obscurity. It is
therefore no more than conjecture to compare the speakers in terms of e.g. social or marital
status, since determining this in the case of Wulf and Eadwacer is guesswork at best, whereas
it is very likely that the speaker of The Wife’s Lament is indeed married to a lord. The
seeming captivity of Wulf and Eadwacer versus the seeming banishment of The Wife’s
Lament is just as uncertain. Most of the differences between the female lyrics, apart from the
formal ones, are in the realm of possibility, not certainty.
The dissimilarities between the male elegies are, on the other hand, more pronounced.
The Wanderer is firmly grounded in the heroic tradition; the past is recounted with great
nostalgia and details of the exilic situation are given more space than in The Seafarer, where
exile seems to serve only as a background showing the deficiency of the heroic society and
159
Klinck 225.
E.g. the usage of the lord-retainer vocabulary in The Wife’s Lament which is completely missing in Wulf and
Eadwacer.
160
34
providing thus a reason for its rejection. After a loss of a lord and retinue the speaker of The
Wanderer attempts to seek the same security elsewhere and only when this task proves
impossible he reluctantly accepts hope of refuge beyond the mortal realm, while the seafarer,
though not without initial hesitation, refuses earthly joys he came to know as false even when
they are at hand. This is completely consistent with the space homiletic elements are given in
each poem; in The Wanderer they occupy only a few lines in the beginning and the end,
providing thus a frame which is rather detached and superficially inconsistent with the rest of
the poem. On the contrary, the second half of The Seafarer can be, with some reservation,
classified as a homily in itself ending with a prayer. The speakers‘ differing attitudes similarly
reflect the basic opposition between the poems. The seafarer willingly resolves to change his
situation and deliberately undertakes a quest toward ascetism and consequent redemption; the
wanderer‘s solitude is forced upon him by fate: he is ana in the beginning and sitting sundor
æt rune in the end, his progress then seems to be psychological only and quite passive. The
speaker persona in The Wanderer is pointed out by the poet throughout the poem and despite
the first and third person alterations the narrative is still concerned with a single individual
and his reflections; The Seafarer‘s narrative and speaking voices are not distinguished at all
but rather seem to blend and move toward a homiletic impersonality. In some respects, then,
there is no reason to view these poems as companion pieces, though their similarities still
permit putting them side by side.
Both male speakers address wyrd at some point during their monologues, a concept
that, whatever its connotations, seems deeply related to a sharp awareness of transience and
preoccupation with mortality, uncertainty and loss. These concerns are recognizable, though
less explicitly, also in the female elegies and they are hardly surprising, given the average life
expectancy in Anglo-Saxon England estimated to no further than the thirties, with a high
mortality rate in the twenties and, inevitably, in infancy. 161 Nevertheless, even such bleak life
expectations are faced more easily when an individual has his firm place within the
community; the means of gaining one‘s place in the social order were usually based upon the
relationships of the comitatus for the men and by marriage for the women.162 In this basic
dichotomy it is predictable that when these relationships fail, the results are diverse for men
and women in their respective emphasis on public and social versus the private and personal.
Both male speakers express their situations in terms of a mock-hall with bird for companions
161
Christine Fell, ―Perceptions of Transience,‖ The Old English Elegies: New Essays in Criticism and Research,
ed. Green (Rutherford: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 1983) 186.
162
Marilynn Desmond, "The Voice of Exile: Feminist Literary History and the Anonymous Anglo-Saxon
Elegy," Critical Inquiry 16.3 (1990): 584.
35
(1-33 in The Seafarer, 39-57 in The Wanderer) and an absent ring-giver, whereas women
view it within a dysfunctional intimate relationship. This is, however, not caused only by the
general social hierarchical setting. As discussed in the previous chapter the female speakers
seem to have been always somehow isolated within the community, struggling with scheming
or disagreements but finding happiness in an intimate relationship, even if dubious and shortlived. The wanderer, on the other hand, clearly remembers the joys experienced within the
heroic society and it is not unimaginable (though admittedly not explicitly stated in the poem)
that the seafarer has also enjoyed the pleasures of the hall before enduring their lack and
rejection. This opposition is exemplified when the speakers are in extreme emotional distress:
the men evoke social scenes of merriment in the hall, while the speaker of The Wife’s Lament
imagines a deeply private moment of lovers lying together in bed and the other female
speaker passionately calls out to her Wulf. The individuality of the women‘s desire probably
contribute to their eventual lack of solace in that the men they desire are unique and
irreplaceable; therefore, the object of their desire is unchangeable, whereas the men are
obviously able to search for the protection of a different ring-giver and retinue after their
original community is gone. This option, whether utilized or not, opens a possibility of
changing their object of desire, eventually to the security of heaven.
One distinct element that differentiates the female lyrics from the male is a sense of
confinement and immobility. In their exile, the male speakers are completely free to travel in
their pursuit of lasting values, wander in search of new lords, undertake voyages on the sea,
etc. The speaker of The Wife’s Lament perhaps departed to seek folgað but her journey
resulted in a command to reside in a constricted, claustrophobic underground dwelling place
with no mention of a possibility of escape. Wulf and Eadwacer is completely devoid of the
speaker‘s movement; Eadwacer seems to be someone in position of authority confining her,
which (joined with the indications of physical suffering) may imply even imprisonment. This
physical motionlessness only underscores the general passivity and suffering which all come
together in the respective poems‘ climactic impassioned lamentations (27-41 in The Wife’s
Lament and 9-15 in Wulf and Eadwacer). Though little is known about the respective
speakers‘ desired men, their absence and threats that seem to endanger them along with their
implied exilic situation (Wulf being probably an outlaw; the wife‘s imagining of her
husband‘s situation) associate all physical movement with them. However, images of
―binding‖ of sorrows or by cold are quite frequent in the male elegies (e.g. 39-40 in The
Wanderer or 8b-10a in The Seafarer) and these seem to suggest some degree of a
psychological or emotional constraint opposed to their physical freedom. Nevertheless,
36
regardless of their physical state of freedom or stasis and emotional restrictions, the minds of
all speakers wander without restraint. The psychological progress they reach during these
inner musings is, however, significantly different.
In the course of the poem each speaker attempts to overcome his or her sense of
separation and move toward consolation by some degree of externalization of their inner
anguish. Klinck comments that ―many of the elegies deal with the particular by placing it in
the context of the universal‖163 which is exemplified in the use of gnomic statements and
passages in third person. What these parts have in common is a formal impersonality.
Greenfield‘s opinion that the impersonal passages appear to serve to intensify moments of
emotional agony164 does not appear to be fully applicable. While it is true that many of these
sections appear in the text right after passages of heightened emotional anxiety, rather than
further escalation they seem to have the opposite purpose, i.e. composing oneself by means of
externalizing suffering. This development is apparent even in the short Wulf and Eadwacer in
its shift to direct address.165 Nevertheless, The Wife’s Lament‘s scyle – sceal clauses were
already commented on in that they seem to have too many affinities with the speaker‘s
background and particularly her description of her husband to be completely impersonal. This
seems to be the case also in the third person passage of The Wanderer (29b-57) and The
Seafarer (39-57). Individual experience is simply too involved in these attempts to generalize,
which leaves them half-way between an account of one‘s private anguish and a universal
truth. The final two lines of Wulf and Eadwacer are also an example of a similar compound of
the personal and the universal, though in a condensed manner necessitated by the poem‘s
length. The psychological development of the female speakers goes no further than this and,
since no indication is given of a possible reunion with their desired men, there seems to be no
end to their sorrow and no hope for happiness in the future. As is seen in the wife‘s attempt to
connect to her husband and her final encompassing of all lovers in her situation, the only
consolation she will ever have is that there are others in the world also enduring the misery of
solitude. The men, on the other hand, develop further.
The progression of the male elegies can be summarized as ―an eschatological
movement from personal suffering, through meditation on transience, to a contemplation of
the eternal.‖166 The dread of an individual exilic experience is re-evaluated within the context
of a general decline and given a new meaning through the Christian point of view. In view of
163
Klinck 229.
Greenfield, Attitudes and Values 158.
165
Klinck 226.
166
Klinck 226.
164
37
Irving‘s comment that ―perhaps Christian poets saw an advantage in representing individuals
as separated from a society that was still overwhelmingly pagan in its basic nature‖167 it is no
surprise that these individuals are confronted with images of decay, corruption, inadequacy,
failure and eventual demise of the heroic society, which is not apparent in the female elegies
which have no religious implications. The women then can be seen as victims of a social and
consequently personal alienation caused not primarily by the decay of the heroic society but
rather by the state of affairs imposed upon them by men. The new but equally patriarchal
Christian order does not offer any resolution to their deeply personal problems that have no
prospect of change in the future. Thus, in their search for consolation the female speakers
cannot go further than an externalization of their individual grief and an imaginary connection
with other similarly suffering souls. On the other hand, Christianity with its promise of
permanence in heaven solves the troubles plaguing the male speakers who are forced to
witness and endure the decline of the heroic society and the failure of its principles. Emphasis
on these images demonstrating the decay of all earthly values gives vividness and conviction
to their acceptance of a Christian way of life.
167
Irving 158.
38
Conclusion
The Old English elegies have been among the most discussed texts of the AngloSaxon period and have come to be seen also among the most cryptic and problematic.
Nevertheless, individual interpretations of the four selected poems have demonstrated that
there is no reason to necessarily see any of them as a text that has been deliberately altered or
somehow damaged. Though many obscurities remain, arguable points that will possibly never
be unambiguously resolved, these may well be of a contemporary nature and could have been
completely clear to the audience they were originally intended for. Still, even from a modern
point of view, the poems can be considered unified, logically developed narratives whose
poetic impact has not diminished a millennium after their composition.
During the course of this thesis a number of dissimilarities were discovered even
among these four poems, which are considered to be less problematic within the elegiac group
in terms of genre. In order to justify their gathering into a single group a number of parallels
and similarities have been explored. Through an analysis of each poem the speaker personae
were characterized as isolated or exiled figures lamenting their physical misery and deep
emotional sorrow originating in a failure of the relationships that established and guaranteed
their place within the community. Thus the centrality of the themes of separation and solitude
have been addressed and confirmed. Additionally, the isolation of the speakers cannot be
decidedly proved to be through a fault of their own and in consequence the speakers can be
seen as victims of a dysfunctional social setting and declining heroic society.
Each speaker has also evinced an attempt to overcome his or her distress in some
degree of movement toward its externalization. Though this progression can be seen even in
Wulf and Eadwacer, the shortest and most cryptic of the elegies, its extent has been showed to
be distinctly different in poems with male and with female speakers. The female‘s passivity
and sense of confinement versus the male‘s freedom of movement, continuous alienation
within the society versus evocations of past enjoyments of the pleasures of the hall, emphasis
on the failure of an intimate as opposed to social relationships along with a final futility and
only bitter consolation as opposed to the acceptance of God‘s grace; these all exemplify that
while separation and solitude are essential parts of the elegies, the female experience is
personal, very intimate, constant and hopeless, while the male suffering is momentary, with
memories of a happier past in a social setting and hopes for the future in heaven.
39
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42
Appendix
The Wife’s Lament168
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168
Ic þis giedd wrece bi me ful geomorre,
minre sylfre sið. Ic þæt secgan mæg,
hwæt ic yrmþa gebad, siþþan ic up aweox,
niwes oþþe ealdes, no ma þonne nu -a ic wite wonn minra wræcsiþa.
Ærest min hlaford gewat heonan of leodum
ofer yþa gelac; hæfde ic uhtceare
hwær min leodfruma londes wære.
Ða ic me feran gewat folgað secan,
wineleas wrecca, for minre weaþearfe,
ongunnon þæt þæs monnes magas hycgan
þurh dyrne geþoht þæt hy todælden unc,
þæt wit gewidost in woruldrice
lifdon laðlicost, ond mec longade.
Het mec hlaford min her heard niman,
ahte ic leofra lyt on þissum londstede,
holdra freonda. Forþon is min hyge geomor,
ða ic me ful gemæcne monnan funde,
heardsæligne, hygegeomorne,
mod miþendne, morþor hycgendne.
Bliþe gebæro ful oft wit beotedan
þæt unc ne gedælde nemne deað ana
owiht elles; eft is þæt onhworfen,
is nu [fornumen] swa hit no wære,
freondscipe uncer. Sceal ic feor ge neah
mines felaleofan fæhðu dreogan.
Heht mec mon wunian on wuda bearwe,
under actreo in þam eorðscræfe.
Eald is þes eorðsele, eal ic eom oflongad.
Sindon dena dimme, duna uphea,
bitre burgtunas, brerum beweaxne,
wic wynna leas. Ful oft mec her wraþe begeat
fromsiþ frean. Frynd sind on eorþan,
leofe lifgende, leger weardiað,
þonne ic on uhtan ana gonge
under actreo geond þas eorðscrafu.
Þær ic sittam mot sumorlangne dæg,
The texts of the elegies are quoted from Muir, Exeter DVD.
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38
39
40
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þær ic wepan mæg mine wræcsiþas,
earfoþa fela. Forþon ic æfre ne mæg
þære modceare minre gerestan,
ne ealles þæs longaþes þe mec on þissum life begeat.
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A scyle geong mon wesan geomormod,
heard heortan geþoht, swylce habban sceal
bliþe gebæro, eac þon breostceare,
sinsorgna gedreag, sy æt him sylfum gelong
eal his worulde wyn, sy ful wide fah
feorres folclondes, þæt min freond siteð
under stanhliþe storme behrimed,
wine werigmod, wætre beflowen
on dreorsele. Dreogeð se min wine
micle modceare -- he gemon to oft
wynlicran wic. Wa bið þam þe sceal
of langoþe leofes abidan.
44
Wulf and Eadwacer
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Leodum is minum swylce him mon lac gife;
willað hy hine aþecgan, gif he on þreat cymeð.
Ungelic is us.
Wulf is on iege, ic on oþerre.
Fæst is þæt eglond, fenne biworpen.
Sindon wælreowe weras þær on ige;
willað hy hine aþecgan, gif he on þreat cymeð.
Ungelice is us.
Wulfes ic mines widlastum wenum hogode;
þonne hit wæs renig weder ond ic reotugu sæt,
þonne mec se beaducafa bogum bilegde,
wæs me wyn to þon, wæs me hwæþre eac lað.
Wulf, min Wulf, wena me þine
seoce gedydon, þine seldcymas,
murnende mod, nales meteliste.
Gehyrest þu, Eadwacer? Uncerne earmne hwelp
bireð wulf to wuda.
Þæt mon eaþe tosliteð þætte næfre gesomnad wæs -uncer giedd geador.
45
The Wanderer
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Oft him anhaga are gebideð,
metudes miltse, þeah þe he modcearig
geond lagulade longe sceolde
hreran mid hondum hrimcealde sæ,
wadan wræclastas -- wyrd bið ful ared.
Swa cwæð eardstapa, earfeþa gemyndig,
wraþra wælsleahta, winemæga hryre:
"Oft ic sceolde ana uhtna gehwylce
mine ceare cwiþan. Nis nu cwicra nan
þe ic him modsefan minne durre
sweotule asecgan. Ic to soþe wat
þæt biþ in eorle indryhten þeaw
þæt he his ferðlocan fæste binde,
healde his hordcofan, hycge swa he wille.
Ne mæg werig mod wyrde wiðstondan,
ne se hreo hyge helpe gefremman.
Forðon domgeorne dreorigne oft
in hyra breostcofan bindað fæste.
Swa ic modsefan minne sceolde
oft earmcearig, eðle bidæled,
freomægum feor feterum sælan,
siþþan geara iu goldwine minne
hruse heolstre biwrah, ond ic hean þonan
wod wintercearig ofer waþema gebind,
sohte seledreorig sinces bryttan,
hwær ic feor oþþe neah findan meahte
þone þe in meoduhealle [minne] myne wisse,
oþþe mec freondleasne frefran wolde,
wenian mid wynnum. Wat se þe cunnað
hu sliþen bið sorg to geferan,
þam þe him lyt hafað leofra geholena.
Warað hine wræclast, nales wunden gold,
ferðloca freorig, nalæs foldan blæd.
Gemon he selesecgas ond sincþege,
hu hine on geoguðe his goldwine
wenede to wiste -- wyn eal gedreas.
Forþon wat se þe sceal his winedryhtnes
leofes larcwidum longe forþolian -ðonne sorg ond slæp somod ætgædre
earmne anhogan oft gebindað,
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þinceð him on mode þæt he his mondryhten
clyppe ond cysse, ond on cneo lecge
honda ond heafod, swa he hwilum ær
in geardagum giefstolas breac.
Ðonne onwæcneð eft wineleas guma -gesihð him biforan fealwe wegas,
baþian brimfuglas, brædan feþra,
hreosan hrim ond snaw hagle gemenged.
Þonne beoð þy hefigran heortan benne,
sare æfter swæsne. Sorg bið geniwad
þonne maga gemynd mod geondhweorfeð;
greteð gliwstafum, georne geondsceawað
secga geseldan; swimmað oft on weg -fleotendra ferð no þær fela bringeð
cuðra cwidegiedda. Cearo bið geniwad
þam þe sendan sceal swiþe geneahhe
ofer waþema gebind werigne sefan.
Forþon ic geþencan ne mæg geond þas woruld
for hwan modsefa min ne gesweorce
þonne ic eorla lif eal geondþence,
hu hi færlice flet ofgeafon,
modge maguþegnas. Swa þes middangeard
ealra dogra gehwam dreoseð ond fealleþ.
Forþon ne mæg wearþan wis wer, ær he age
wintra dæl in woruldrice. Wita sceal geþyldig -ne sceal no to hatheort ne to hrædwyrde,
ne to wac wiga ne to wanhydig,
ne to forht ne to fægen, ne to feohgifre
ne næfre gielpes to georn ær he geare cunne.
Beorn sceal gebidan, þonne he beot spriceð,
oþþæt collenferð cunne gearwe
hwider hweþra gehygd hweorfan wille.
Ongietan sceal gleaw hæle hu gæstlic bið
þonne ealre þisse worulde wela weste stondeð,
swa nu missenlice geond þisne middangeard
winde biwaune weallas stondaþ,
hrime bihrorene, hryðge þa ederas.
Woniað þa winsalo; waldend licgað
dreame bidrorene, duguþ eal gecrong
wlonc bi wealle. Sume wig fornom,
ferede in forðwege: sumne fugel oþbær
ofer heanne holm; sumne se hara wulf
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deaðe gedælde; sumne dreorighleor
in eorðscræfe eorl gehydde.
Yþde swa þisne eardgeard ælda scyppend
oþþæt burgwara breahtma lease
eald enta geweorc idlu stodon.
Se þonne þisne wealsteal wise geþohte
ond þis deorce lif deope geondþenceð,
frod in ferðe, feor oft gemon
wælsleahta worn, ond þas word acwið:
'Hwær cwom mearg? Hwær cwom mago? Hwær cwom maþþumgyfa?
Hwær cwom symbla gesetu? Hwær sindon seledreamas?
Eala beorht bune. Eala byrnwiga.
Eala þeodnes þrym. Hu seo þrag gewat,
genap under nihthelm, swa heo no wære.
Stondeð nu on laste leofre duguþe
weal wundrum heah, wyrmlicum fah.
Eorlas fornoman asca þryþe,
wæpen wælgifru, wyrd seo mære,
ond þas stanhleoþu stormas cnyssað,
hrið hreosende hrusan bindeð,
wintres woma, þonne won cymeð,
nipeð nihtscua, norþan onsendeð
hreo hæglfare hæleþum on andan.
Eall is earfoðlic eorþan rice,
onwendeð wyrda gesceaft weoruld under heofonum.
Her bið feoh læne; her bið freond læne;
her bið mon læne; her bið mæg læne -eal þis eorþan gesteal idel weorþeð.'"
Swa cwæð snottor on mode -- gesæt him sundor æt rune.
Til biþ se þe his treowe gehealdeþ, ne sceal næfre his torn to rycene
beorn of his breostum acyþan, nemþe he ær þa bote cunne,
eorl mid elne gefremman. Wel bið þam þe him are seceð,
frofre to fæder on heofonum, þær us eal seo fæstnung stondeð.
48
The Seafarer
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Mæg ic be me sylfum soðgied wrecan,
siþas secgan, hu ic geswincdagum
earfoðhwile oft þrowade,
bitre breostceare gebiden hæbbe,
gecunnad in ceole cearselda fela,
atol yþa gewealc, þær mec oft bigeat
nearo nihtwaco æt nacan stefnan,
þonne he be clifum cnossað. Calde geþrungen
wæron mine fet forste gebunden,
caldum clommum, þær þa ceare seofedun
hat' ymb heortan; hungor innan slat
merewerges mod. Þæt se mon ne wat
þe him on foldan fægrost limpeð,
hu ic earmcearig iscealdne sæ
winter wunade wræccan lastum,
winemægum bidroren,
bihongen hrimgicelum. Hægl scurum fleag -þær ic ne gehyrde butan hlimman sæ,
iscaldne wæg. Hwilum ylfete song
dyde ic me to gomene ganetes hleoþor
ond huilpan sweg fore hleahtor wera,
mæw singende fore medodrince.
Stormas þær stanclifu beotan, þær him stearn oncwæð,
isigfeþera; ful oft þæt earm bigeal,
urigfeþra -- ne ænig hleomæga
feasceaftig ferð frefran meahte.
Forþon him gelyfeð lyt, se þe ah lifes wyn
gebiden in burgum, bealosiþa hwon,
wlonc ond wingal, hu ic werig oft
in brimlade bidan sceolde.
Nap nihtscua, norþan sniwde,
hrim hrusan bond, hægl feol on eorþan,
corna caldast. Forþon cnyssað nu
heortan geþohtas, þæt ic hean streamas,
sealtyþa gelac sylf cunnige;
monað modes lust mæla gehwylce
ferð to feran, þæt ic feor heonan
elþeodigra eard gesece.
Forþon nis þæs modwlonc mon ofer eorþan,
ne his gifena þæs god, ne in geoguþe to þæs hwæt,
ne in his dædum to þæs deor, ne him his dryhten to þæs
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þæt he a his sæfore sorge næbbe,
to hwon hine dryhten gedon wille.
Ne biþ him to hearpan hyge ne to hringþege,
ne to wife wyn ne to worulde hyht,
ne ymbe owiht elles, nefne ymb yða gewealc,
ac a hafað longunge se þe on lagu fundað.
Bearwas blostmum nimað, byrig fægriað,
wongas wlitigiað, woruld onetteð -ealle þa gemoniað modes fusne
sefan to siþe, þam þe swa þenceð
on flodwegas feor gewitan.
Swylce geac monað geomran reorde,
singeð sumeres weard, sorge beodeð
bitter in breosthord. Þæt se beorn ne wat,
esteadig secg, hwæt þa sume dreogað
þe þa wræclastas widost lecgað.
Forþon nu min hyge hweorfeð ofer hreþerlocan,
min modsefa mid mereflode
ofer hwæles eþel hweorfeð wide,
eorþan sceatas, cymeð eft to me
gifre ond grædig, gielleð anfloga,
hweteð on wælweg hreþer unwearnum
ofer holma gelagu. Forþon me hatran sind
dryhtnes dreamas þonne þis deade lif,
læne on londe. Ic gelyfe no
þæt him eorðwelan ece stondeð:
simle þreora sum þinga gehwylce,
ær his tiddæge, to tweon weorþeð -adl oþþe yldo oþþe ecghete
fægum fromweardum feorh oðþringeð.
Forþon bið eorla gehwam æftercweþendra
lof lifgendra lastworda betst,
þæt he gewyrce, ær he on weg scyle,
fremum on foldan wið feonda niþ,
deorum dædum deofle togeanes,
þæt hine ælda bearn æfter hergen
ond his lof siþþan lifge mid englum
awa to ealdre, ecan lifes blæd,
dream mid dugeþum. Dagas sind gewitene,
ealle onmedlan eorþan rices -nearon nu cyningas ne caseras,
ne goldgiefan swylce iu wæron,
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þonne hi mæst mid him mærþa gefremedon
ond on dryhtlicestum dome lifdon.
Gedroren is þeos duguð eal, dreamas sind gewitene,
wuniað þa wacran ond þas woruld healdaþ,
brucað þurh bisgo. Blæd is gehnæged,
eorþan indryhto ealdað ond searað,
swa nu monna gehwylc geond middangeard.
Yldo him on fareð, onsyn blacað,
gomelfeax gnornað, wat his iuwine,
æþelinga bearn, eorþan forgiefene.
Ne mæg him þonne se flæschoma, þonne him þæt feorg
ne swete forswelgan ne sar gefelan,
ne hond onhreran ne mid hyge þencan.
Þeah þe græf wille golde stregan
broþor his geborenum -- byrgan be deadum -maþmum mislicum þæt hine mid wille,
ne mæg þære sawle þe biþ synna ful
gold to geoce for godes egsan,
þonne he hit ær hydeð þenden he her leofað.
Micel biþ se meotudes egsa, forþon hi seo molde oncyrreð;
se gestaþelade stiþe grundas,
eorþan sceatas ond uprodor.
Dol biþ se þe him his dryhten ne ondrædeþ -- cymeð him se deað unþinged.
Eadig bið se þe eaþmod leofaþ -- cymeð him seo ar of heofonum,
meotod him þæt mod gestaþelað, forþon he in his meahte gelyfeð.
Stieran mon sceal strongum mode, ond þæt on staþelum healdan,
ond gewis werum, wisum clæne,
scyle monna gehwylc mid gemete healdan
[lufan] wiþ leofne ond wið laþne bealo,
þeah þe he hine wille fyres fulne
oþþe on bæle forbærnedne
his geworhtne wine. Wyrd biþ swiþre,
meotud meahtigra þonne ænges monnes gehygd.
Uton we hycgan hwær we ham agen,
ond þonne geþencan hu we þider cumen,
ond we þonne eac tilien, þæt we to moten
in þa ecan eadignesse,
þær is lif gelong in lufan dryhtnes,
hyht in heofonum. Þæs sy þam halgan þonc,
þæt he usic geweorþade, wuldres ealdor,
ece dryhten, in ealle tid. Amen.
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